


Thirteen (Alternate ending)

by sharkgriffin



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 307, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6488875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkgriffin/pseuds/sharkgriffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sex, Lexa decides to take Clarke for a tour of Polis and tell her about the history of the grounders which leads to Clarke discovering the link between the city of light and the commander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirteen (Alternate ending)

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is basically one of the many possible ideas for how jrat could have ended 307 while still revealing his "amazing plot twist" and finding a way of writing Lexa off until the end of the season. Obviously, it is still filled with all the plotholes involved in the reincarnation storyline but still makes more sense than how 307 actually ended.

The rays of the early morning sunlight caught the tips of Lexa's hair. For a few moments, both her and Clarke's bodies were bathed in gold as Clarke held her a little tighter, leaned into her back more and traced her spine with her lips. Everything was perfect, ideal. She knew, within hours, she would be returning to Arkadia, that soon she would have to tear this facade away. But that moment was in the future. Right now, she was living in the present. Lexa was her present.

Their bodies fitted together so perfectly. Lexa was the perfect blend of soft edges combined with her sharp corners when she was on the battlefield. Finn, her first, she remembered him being different, though they had only lain together once. Her feelings for him had been so messy, she had been unable to tell if she loved him, hated him, or simply was strongly attracted to him. She had thought it would be like that with Lexa, too, after Lexa left her behind at Mount Weather. But there was something about Lexa that drew her in, that made forgiving her so much easier than she had thought.

Now was not the time to think about Finn, she realised. Finn was a thing of the past. Though his struggle had been fierce, though she hoped his name would go down in history, his fight was over.

"You know, I never thought it would be like this," Clarke found herself saying.

"What would?"

"Us. That day I met you when..." She trailed off as she brushed the back of Lexa's neck. She had briefly glimpsed the tattoo there before, a broken infinity sign with three dots reconnecting the symbol. It was pretty, something Clarke had scribbled multiple times when bored around the Polis Tower. She liked the pattern. She may have even asked for one herself if she had not know of the dangers of matching tattoos. But now, she noticed a red line underneath it, a scar that had faded over long years.

She didn't know how to phrase her next question, but she wanted to know. If this was some symbol of all Lexa's pain and suffering, she would share the suffering with her, help her carry it.

"This scar, what is it?"

"It's where the commander's spirit entered me," Lexa replied. Clarke was confused. She knew of religions, of ghost stories, that thought of the human soul as a kind of transparent being,  with no solid form. When Lexa told her of the reincarnation of the commanders, this was how she had pictured it, that some glowing beam of light had flown out of the body of the previous commander and entered the body of a child.

"At my conclave," Lexa continued. "When I - When I defeated the other nightbloods." She flinched as she said this. Something happened that day that had embedded itself in Lexa's heart. They had already discussed this. There had been nine nightbloods, yet only seven died. Lexa did not want to tell her what happened to the eighth. Maybe part of her pain was having to watch her friends die and having their blood stain her hands.

"When I was declared the new commander, they gave me the last commander's spirit. They told me not to be afraid as they inserted it inside me."

Clarke sat up. The adorned blanket that she lay beneath slipped, exposing her bare breasts and torso. "That doesn't make sense. What was it, the spirit?"

"It is the commander's spirit," Lexa said, calmly, turning to face her. "It is my spirit. Clarke, you don't believe it, but you've never experienced it for yourself. It is our way, not just of trikru but all grounder clans, even azgeda. We have always been taught, since the first commander, that way."

"The first commander can't have been more than ninety seven years ago."

"I know that," Lexa answered. "All of us know of the war that came before us, though most of us chose not to believe it until you and the rest of the skaikru came down. And I'll admit, I was sceptical, too, until I felt the other commanders in my head. They talk to me in my dreams, they advise me, and I never felt them before being commander."

"I'm interested because I want to know how you, all the clans came to be in just ninety seven years."

Lexa rolled out of her bed. Out of her armor, she was less threatening. She appeared smaller, not just in size but in presence. She carried herself lower, her head was bent forwards, she even looked like she was trying to cover herself with her hands, even though the two of them had just spent the last half an hour completely naked together.

She pulled items from within her wardrobe: a grey cloak which was rough at the edges, very different to her carefully embroidered red one, a worn out jacket that she had never seen before, a pair of large black pants.

"Where are you going?"

"I go out sometimes, to watch my people. I dress so they don't recognise me."

"Why?"

"Being commander, I am proud to lead such a heroic race. But it scares me sometimes, the way my people look at me with so much hope. I wish they could just see me as one of their own."

"Well, I know something about being put on a pedestal," Clarke said. She remembered how her friends had looked at her at the mountain. Octavia, so invested in saving lives, Jasper believing she would be able to save everyone, Monty thinking every decision she made was the right one, Bellamy who treated her as some kind of emotional crutch for him. Though she appreciated all her friends, she could not do all of that. She was eighteen, there is only so much an eighteen year old can do.

"I want to take you around the city. You should be able to see where I grew up."

"I shouldn't do this. I have to go. Octavia, my people, they're-"

"Your people can wait a few more hours," Lexa cut in, though she didn't seem sure. Perhaps she was worried Bellamy and Pike would kill hundreds more innocents. She was probably right. "I'll send a message to let Octavia know you can't leave yet."

Clarke was afraid for the fates of her people and of the grounders, but she wanted to make the most of what time she did have with Lexa. It could be years before they met again, if they ever did meet again.

Lexa handed her things to wear. She was almost jealous of the wardrobe, the design as well as the contents. She attaches a bulletproof vest under her jacket, for safety, Lexa says. She tells her you are never able to know when an attack may strike.

The idea that people didn't recognise Lexa in her disguises seemed surprising. She had a very individual face shape and her eyes were so unique, that shimmering shade of green with her heavy lashes. However, once again, as Lexa turned to look at her, she remembered that all the grounders saw of Lexa was the commander, the woman who brought together twelve, soon to be thirteen clans. Without her war paint, her sash, the symbol in the middle of her forehead which Clarke still did not understand, the commander was hidden.

* * *

 

"I always liked coming in here. When I just a nightblood." Lexa ran her fingers over the spines of the books, withered with age. "Anya used to think it was funny. She would tell me I was a..." She struggled to find the English word. "A rebel."

"You? A rebel?"

"I skipped lessons. I would rather run through the forest with the Polis children than do my duties."

"Was Costia one of those children?"

Lexa bit down on her lip. "Her mother was a travelling healer. They were from trishanakru."

"Glowing forest?"

She nodded. "They would come through Polis once every six months and stay for a few days. We only started as friends because we never see each other. But when I was sixteen and I had become commander already, she was sent to me as a servant girl. Her mother died in the aftermath of a battle." She grinned. Clarke was confused as to why she would smile, talking of her lost love.

"I always used to wonder at night what Costia would think of my decisions. Would she approve? I can sense her spirit, though. I know, Clarke, even if the previous commanders disagree, Costia approves. And she is happy, I think she would like you if she met you."

"Don't you think that's a bit strange, you thinking about how your ex, how Costia would feel about me?"

"No. I don't. I think she'd want me to find someone else, to not grieve her forever."

She paced around the library, which was empty, save for the pair of them. Meanwhile, Clarke moved to the window and peeked through the silky covering. The window in the room Lexa kept her in had never shown her this angle before. No, from that room, she had been able to look out across Polis, to see the people scurrying through the market place surrounding the tower, the homes beyond, and the edge of the forest miles away. Much less of Polis was on this side of the tower, however. There were a few farms situated beneath, a few more small buildings where grounder families likely lived. And then, after that, there was just the mountains. Did Arkadia, and all her friends, lie just behind those mountains? She had no concept of direction anymore.

"So, are we still doing this tour?" Clarke asked Lexa as she turned back to her. Lexa was flicking through the pages of a book, too fast to actually be taking in any of the content.

"Tour?"

"You were going to show me where you grew up? I can't assume you spent all your time in a library."

"Oh yes, of course, Clarke."

"What've you got there?"

"It's a book I read when I was younger. It was when I could only read some English so I taught myself from it. It's a history book."

"I could do with one of those, in your language. I can speak it well now but if our people are going to live together, I think the sky people should learn your language properly. You've learnt ours, after all. You do like history, don't you?"

"How did you know?"

"You were reading one just like this the other day. And then you fell asleep with the book open. You looked so peaceful just lying there on the couch."

"Yes, when you drew me." Her face lit up once more. "I still have the picture, upstairs.

"Really, I didn't think it was any good."

"It is, Clarke, really it is."

They stared awkwardly at each other in silence for a few moments more before Lexa spoke again. "We should leave." Lexa placed her book back where it was on the shelf, where a space had been left. Every book was in order, on the aging covers, Clarke could make out the titles, sorted alphabetically. She took Lexa's hand, which Lexa seemed surprised by. She was stiff for a moment, a part of her still shocked that Clarke felt affection to her.

"Lexa, show me your city."

* * *

 "Back on the ark, when I made new friends, we used to play this game to get to know each other. You ask ten questions, revolving between the two people, and both of you have to answer the questions. It made a kind of sacred bond between the two people if they knew these important or unimportant facts about each other."

"So you think we should play this game."

"I know so little about you, Lexa. And already I know more than any of your soldiers or advisors. You're a secretive person."

"No. I just separate personal matters from my duty."

"Oh really?" Clarke cocked her head to one side as they strode through the streets of Polis, arm in arm. "Am I part of your duty then?"

She sighed. "You ask the first question."

"Okay, erm, to get us started, tell me just any fact about you and your early life."

"I can't. I was taken from my village to be trained before the end of my second year. I don't remember anything about my life before then."

Clarke suddenly realised that once upon a time, Lexa did have a family, a mother who birthed her, possibly siblings. "Your parents?"

"I don't remember them, either. I only lived with them for two years before it was discovered I was a nightblood and I came here. I don't know which village they came from, I wasn't permitted to know because they worried I would go searching for them. Anya told me as much as she could about them without revealing any important details for finding them."

"I'd say that's enough of an answer."

"Now you have to answer the question."

"Fact about my early life? Hmm. When I was a child, I didn't actually have many friends. Not permanent friends. There was nothing wrong with them, or me, we just drifted apart. But there was this one boy I knew since I was three years old. His name was Wells, and his father was the chancellor. My parents were friends with his. And he came to the earth with me, he committed a crime just so he could come to the ground with me, and then when he got here...he was killed by a twelve year old girl."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, for now, they were approaching a crowd of grounders, conversing in trigedasleng.

"Yeah. I miss him," Clarke finally replied once they were gone. "So many of our people have had to die."

"And many of my people have had to die, too."

"I know that. What I mean is, when I left the Ark, there were over two thousand sky people. And us, the first people to come down, there were one hundred of us. And when I left Arkadia which was more than four months ago, there were a few hundred of us left. Who knows how many more have died since then." She laughed, a raw, dry cackle that lacked amusement. "I thought maybe the fighting would be over. I mean, you'd still be at war with Azgeda, but we'd join the coalition. Skaikru have been responsible for so many grounder deaths. It would have been so good if we joined together. But Pike, and Bellamy-"

"Clarke, skaikru will have no choice but to accept the coalition."

"Unhappily. What if they do join, and then they break it again, kill us from the inside? Hey, why are you looking at me like that?"

Lexa looked utterly delighted about something. "You said us."

"Yes. Lexa, I've been here with you a long time and you - You've made me feel so welcome. My loyalties will always lie with my people and you know that. I'll do everything I can to protect them. But I'm one of you, too. At least, I am if that's alright with you."

"Of course it is, Clarke. Wait."

"What is it?"

"Do you see that building?" Lexa pointed up the hillside. There were many houses, running up the soft slope. Many of them appeared as if they were made out random objects, pieced together to create something new. Others were like the tents they had inhabited back at the site of the dropship, only larger versions. The one Lexa was directing her gaze to, though, it was bigger than the others, a small wooden shack with a tarpaulin roof. There were windows, covered with shutters that looked to be made out of broken sections of a fan.

"That was Anya's home when she stayed here. And when your second is a nightblood, you are required to stay here most of the time, for them to receive their lessons with the heda, as well as their fighting lessons."

"It's nice. Did you like living there?"

"Yes. Anya was a good teacher."

"I can imagine. From what I saw of her, anyway. She seemed like a fierce warrior. Hey, you said that Anya was your mentor growing up. But what about Gustus and Titus. They were your mentors, too?"

"They all were, all three of them. And the previous heda.  Anya taught me to fight, took me on travels, showed me the world around me. I could tell her my fears, my worries. She was like my sister. The heda's job with the nightbloods is spirituality, to prepare them for the challenges they will face if they ever become commander. You teach them language and history and politics. And Gustus and Titus, I didn't properly meet them until I became the commander myself. They were my mentors because they had been through it all before and knew how it worked."

"I almost forgot. I believe it's your turn to ask me a question."

"Oh yes, your game. What's your favorite color?"

"You're kidding, you're going for something so basic?"

"It's an important detail about you. It's personal."

"Right, I guess so. I like turquoise the most I think."

"Turquoise? I don't know that color."

"It's sort of a mix between green and blue. Like the sea, only the shade I like is lighter."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I dreamt of the earth as a child and I suppose it was the color I always associated with the earth. You?"

"Gold, or orange. It's the color of the sunset here. I never understood why it was so much brighter here than anywhere else. But I loved watching the sun go down from the tower when we were allowed to stay there overnight. Like you were fascinated by the earth, I was fascinated by the planets. Because of the first commander."

"What do you mean the first commander?"

"It's a grounder legend, I'll explain to you soon, it will be easier once we return to the tower."

"Come on, Lexa, I want to know now." She realised how much she sounded like an impatient child right now, but Lexa had her intrigued.

An aroma of spices blended with the cooking of smoky meat wafted into Clarke's nostrils, making her think of food. Her stomach rumbled. She had not eaten all day. This lead to her next question being all about food.

"Favorite thing to eat?"

"Roasted berries from the shallow valley," she answered automatically.

"I've never tasted them," said Clarke. "Maybe sometime you could get me some. I don't think I can get you any of my favorite though. It's chocolate. It's this thing humans used to make a lot of with sugar in and it was made from cocoa bean trees which we didn't have on the ark and if they still exist, they'd only be in hotter places than this. There was a storage of cocoa on the ark and so few even got to have it because it was so expensive. Still, you should try it." Clarke's stomach growled again as she remembered that sweet, milky flavor that it was unlikely she would ever come into contact with again. Lexa heard this time.

"You're hungry."

"It's a good smell."

Lexa began to withdraw coins from her pockets.

"Lexa, no, I can hang on a little longer. Octavia will have food supplies, we'll eat on the way to Arkadia...I mean Arkadia. I keep forgetting that's what they're calling it now.

"No, Clarke. You need food now. And it is my duty as my...guest to make sure you are satfisfied." She walked forward at a fast pace, coming to stop at the kiosk that the smell appeared to be coming from.  Wood burnt in the back, producing a flame that warming the food as it was stirred around in an enormous bowl. Lexa strode up to the front, heard her order two. The meals were delivered to her in smooth bowls made from sanded down wood. As Clarke held it between her two hands, she felt the heat radiate from it, warming the tips of her fingers.

"What is it?"

"Myol. It's a type of grain we grow here. This one is mixed with herbs and then those, the brown sections, that is lamb."

Clarke understood she was not meant to eat this with a spoon but straight out of the bowl with her hand. Nothing was too greasy or too covered in the cooking juices, which made her expect a dry taste. On the outside, the grains were dry, though the spices were rich and the meat cooked well. It was one of the best meals she had had in a long time.

"Do you like it?" Lexa asked her as they made their return to the tower.

"The city or the food?"

"Both."

"The food is nice and you're right, Polis has changed the way I see your people."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a few months ago, you told me to come to Polis with you because it would change the way I saw you. I told you that you already had."

"And how do you see us now?"

"As a race, a group of living, breathing people who have as much of a right to live as skaikru."

"Thank you. But, you still don't know the whole story. Now, you shall see." Lexa nodded to the guards, for they had now reached the front doors to the tower. As people who spent time around her, they were able to recognise their commander, without her armor and war paint.

At the centre of the room on the ground floor, there was an elevator. Clarke had been up and down in it many times in her short stay here. Though it creaked and groaned and swayed from side to side as they ascended into the clouds, it was much more convenient than climbing the many of flights of stairs before reaching her bedroom.

Though, to the side of the elevator, there was a flight of stairs going down. Clarke had never stopped to think what might be under the Polis Tower. Just like with most of the other rooms here, she had chosen to believe no one used it as only the commander and her advisors and close servants such as healers and cleaners got to permanently reside in the tower. Of course, there were guest rooms like Clarke's own, and for the visiting leaders of each of the clans, training rooms for the nightbloods, but the rest must just be remnants of offices from when the tower was used by humans for work a century before.

Lexa gestured down the stairs, down into the darkness and Clarke lead them, hearing Lexa's footsteps resounding on the stone steps behind her.

"As I said, when I was a child, I looked up at the sky. I memorised the planet's locations and sizes."

Clarke had not thought science was a part of the grounders' education. She could not help but think now how she had looked herself down upon the earth while she waited outside council meetings that her parents attended. They would give her a pencil and paper to keep herself occupied but the only thing she could find worth sketching was the world below her. Who would have known that as Lexa looked up and Clarke looked down, they were looking at each other?

"I had a connection to the sky. I was a nightblood. And the first time nightblood was seen was in the first commander. Apparently, she fell out of the sky. She was an angel cast out of Heaven, a god walking among mortals. It made me a demigod."

They finally reached the landing at the bottom. Down here, it was cold, as it should be in mid-February as Clarke believed it to be. She was not the best at keeping track of time but she knew she had been gone from Arkadia for nearly four months.

The walls were coated in layers of green mould that crept into the crevices, impossible for anyone to remove. There was little light; most of it shone down the staircase from the floor above. And then, directly in front of her was a heavy, iron door.

"Through that door is our shrine to the previous commanders. Very few may enter. The commander, the natblida, the flamekeeper. It's my authority to choose who can come in here to prevent the consecration of our sacred items. You have to understand Clarke, to us, allowing you in here is a rare honor."

"Why? What exactly is in there?"

"Tombom kom heda."

"Heart of the commander?"

"It is said any relics from the first commander are contained down there. Anything she wrote, anything she wore, even what remains of her ashes are kept there. And so are the ashes of every commander, and all their clothes, their entire legacies either in that room are shown on the work they did in this world. And when I die, that will be my fate as well." She paused. "I used to go in there myself when I was young, more than the other natblida, to feel connected to the other commanders. At that time, I thought the commander hated me. He would always punish me, he almost always picked me for fighting demonstrations and then hurt me far more than the other children. But his spirit chose me."

She lifted the iron bolt covering the door, and with little effort, pushed it open. The second a gap was made between the two spaces, a deep grunt came from within. It sounded as if someone were screaming, though something was stopping them, like a hand over a mouth.

The two leaders took only a split second to glance at each other before dashing into the room. Clarke barely had time to register the torches in brackets, the drawings on the walls and what looked like an escape pod from a spaceship before she saw the two figures in the middle of the room.

There was Titus, his shaven head gleaming under the light of the flames that hung around him.  Something appearing like a vertical table was directly in front of him, and a person strapped into it. With surprise, and horror, Clarke recognised this person: it was Murphy.

He did look different. Murphy had always had unusually large eyes but now, one was a thin slit, shrunken to that size by a great about of red swelling. His chest was exposed, blue and purple from old wounds, red and still bleeding from newer ones. A piece of rag had been tied around his mouth to prevent him making too much noise. Titus, unaware of his commander's arrival, dragged a knife down Murphy's stomach.

"Murphy!" Clarke shouted, catching both torturer and prisoner's attention.

"Titus, what is the meaning of this?" Lexa asked, baring her teeth as she strode with purpose towards Titus. She pulled the knife from his hand. "How dare you bring a prisoner in here without my knowledge."

"H-heda," Titus stammered. "He was brought here, said to have information about Clarke."

"Clarke do you know him?"

"Yes, he's my friend." Murphy's expression read that he was just as astonished to hear her call him a friend as she was to have found him in Polis of all places. "Please, let him go."

Lexa unlocked Murphy's shackles first, letting him fall to the ground, so he could proceed to remove his gag and spit on the floor near Titus.

"What is your name?"

"John. Murphy," he replied to Lexa as Clarke embraced him. He seemed uncomfortable with this but nevertheless relented.

"Titus, you knew Clarke was here as my guest."

"Yeah, well, that wasn't enough to make your friend Titus here stop. Ask my blood all over the floor." Murphy winced as he picked his shirt up from the floor, clearly re-establishing the pain in one of his injuries.

"Do not speak to the commander that way! You must show respect, you-"

"TITUS, ENOUGH!" Lexa raised her hands, silencing him.

"But Heda, he was carrying your sacred symbol."

"I've told you, I didn't know it was some sacred symbol!" Murphy yelled.

"Lexa, what sacred symbol does he mean? Like the one on your neck?" Clarke pushed back Lexa's hair from behind and Titus moved slightly as if he suspected some kind of attack from her but remembered his place and froze with one hand reaching out.

"Yeah, exactly like that one," said Murphy, taking a look at it. "Only it didn't have that broken bit. See, they're obsessed with it here." He pointed around at the walls. It was repeated everywhere, a complete infinity sign.

Titus reached into the pocket of his robes and retrieved a small disk, the size of a water bottle lid. Carved there in the surface, once again, was the same infinity symbol.

He showed it to Lexa. "He was carrying this.

"I told you I didn't steal it or anything." Murphy turned to Clarke. "Jaha gave it to me."

"Jaha? Why?"

"We went looking for the city of light. I don't know, he heard about it from some grounder woman and thought it was his chance to start again. Except...I don't know what the city of light is. The woman, in the red dress-"

"What woman?"

"She's an AI. Clarke, she's the one who set of the nuclear bombs."

"What?"

"Look, it's hard to explain. But I think if this is the symbol of your commander or whatever, Titus says the first commander carried this symbol. Could just be a coincidence but, check out these drawings." He pointed to each of the walls. Clarke's eyes were almost fully adjusted to the darkness and she could see the pictures. There was what looked like the silhouette of a woman, arms raised in the air. She stood in front of an explosion.

"And see, look over here." He turned to another wall. "She's here again, though there are people around her. My guess is, first grounders. And good old baldie says that's the first commander. So somehow, I don't know, the first commander is connected to the city of light."

"I don't understand," said Lexa.

"I don't really either. Let him finish though."

"NO! LIES! THE SKY BOY LIES!"

"Titus," Lexa warned again.

"Heda, I have warned you about Clarke. She is putting you in danger. The sky boy is lying, he plans on assassinating you, what other explanation do you have for him carrying the symbol? Everything going wrong has happened under Clarke, you are risking your own life, you-"

Swiftly, moving so fast, Clarke barely saw her leg move, Lexa kicked Titus to the floor. She pinned him down on the stone cobbles with a single foot. "Titus!" she screamed. "You have always told me that I am a visionary, you said I was the best commander you have ever served under."

"Of course, Lexa. You have united twelve clans."

"If I were such a visionary, do you not think I would be capable of making decisions myself, of being able to love who I want without you having any say in the matter?"

Clarke gasped.

"I trust Clarke."

"Forgive me, Lexa, but you know that love is a weakness."

"No, it isn't. And I have believed that for too long."

"Heda-"

"Say one more word on this topic and I will appoint a new flamekeeper."

Titus caught himself. "My apologies, Heda."

"Thank you. Now, John kom Skaikru, explain yourself."

"Right. So this first commander, you say she fell from the sky. But you see this pod here." He ran over to the escape pod thing. "It says Polis. Which I'm guessing is how you named the city. But then, look at this here." He dragged his arm down a large empty space in between the L and I. It was blackened, as if it had been burnt. "Polis. Polaris."

"The thirteenth station?"

"Yeah. What if, when Polaris was blown up, someone escaped in an escape pod, got down to the earth? The grounders kind of worshipped her, and she became the first commander? And somehow, she knew about the city of light?"

"But Murphy, what is the city of light?" Clarke begged.

"Look, I don't know. Apparently, you can enter it when you take one of these pills, like the one you just saw. Jaha took it, I didn't. Because, long story short, I was locked in a bunker for three months."

"Three months?"

"Don't worry, I've been through worse. Ask any grounder. And I saw the damage the AI, A.L.I.E. did. She was the one who got the launch codes, detonated the nuclear bombs, wiped out most of the earth's population. After that, well, I wasn't exactly going to take any drugs she gave me, even if they get rid of pain."

"Where's Jaha now?"

"Heading back to Camp Jaha to recruit more people to join his brainless army."

"Right?" This was a lot of information for Clarke to absorb but she was beginning to piece together the information. If it was like Murphy said, if taking this pill did remove pain, she could not imagine the number of people who would want jump on the bandwagon once it got to Arkadia. People there had seen things no one should have to endure. She thought of Jasper, how Maya's death affected him. Would that have changed over the course of four months? There was Raven, Monty, even her own mother could be vulnerable. For a minute, she considered what it would be like to be free of pain herself. Would this mean she could finally face up to all the destruction she caused at Mount. Weather? No, she reminded herself. This miraculous cure to pain was bad, from what Murphy had just told her.

"Lexa, you have to tell me what that symbol means."

"It's on all the ancient relics of the first natbleda. When she fell down from the sky, it was carved into everything she had. And when she died, and her spirit was taken out of her neck and inserted into the next commander, it too bore the mark of the heda."

"And that's what you have in your neck, too?" Clarke panicked. "You have to tell me what it looks like. Does it look anything like that pill Murphy had?"

"They are similar, yes," Titus replied for her, now standing from the floor. "However, what the liar has is a copy. The flame is living, moving."

"Hey, can someone catch me up here? What is the flame? And what's so sacred?" It was as if the people in this room were speaking two incompatible languages, one of science and the other of lore, and Clarke had to connect them.

"Grounders believe that when the commander dies, their spirit is reincarnated in another and the flame is meant to be her spirit. But it seems the flame, which is a physical thing, Lexa had it put in her neck when she became commander."

Clarke expected to give some kind of sarcastic response, to mutter about how nothing made sense, how stupid they were, as Murphy always did. But instead, he raised a hand to his head, thinking. "It's an AI. The flame, it's an AI, or at least a part of the AI. Maybe it was a dangerous version and to prevent A.L.I.E. from getting to it, this first commander hid it in her neck and had it passed down through the commanders.

"Oh my God." Clarke suddenly came to a realisation. Jaha, and this AI Murphy had mentioned wanted to recruit people to join their city of light. Maybe if Lexa's spirit really were some kind of artificial intelligence, then the woman, A.L.I.E. would be searching for it. Which meant Lexa was in danger.

"Lexa, we need to get you to safety. Titus, is there any way she can be moved out of Polis?"

"Wanheda, what you're asking is impossible."

"I agree with Titus, Clarke. My place is with my people, here, and I can't just leave them."

"No, you have to go into hiding, you could die."

"Then it would be with purpose."

"Sorry to interrupt here," said Murphy. "Titus, I'd assume you'd want your commander to survive. And, uh, Miss Commander, Lexa, whatever you want me to call you, I've seen what A.L.I.E. does. She's an AI. It means artificial intelligence. That means someone created her to be some kind of computerised human. But she doesn't understand humans. She blew up the planet because she thought there were too many people and I know that she would be willing to do that again. She'd rip that thing out of your neck and blow your people off the face of the earth."

"Thank you, Murphy." Clarke smiled at him. Then, she looked at Lexa. "Lexa, you have to believe us?"

"I do, I do. You know I would trust you on anything you say, Clarke, because you are good, you are honest, you would not lie to me. Your friend supporting you has only strengthened your claim. And though I do not wish to leave Polis, my people are my priority. Titus, we must leave as soon as we can."

"Leave for where, Lexa?"

"You know where." Titus nodded. Side by side, him and Lexa exited the room. Clarke hoped, wished, that Lexa would turn her head back, just for a minute, that she could see her green eyes once more, but the last thing she saw of her was her dark hair falling over her shoulders.

"You're welcome!" Murphy called after them. "No credit for saving your commander, huh?"

Clarke laughed, trying to disguise her sorrow. "Just like old times. Want me to see to those wounds?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"We should get to Octavia."

"Blake number two is here, too?"

"We were going to ride back to Arkadia. That's what they're calling Camp Jaha, now."

"I definitely prefer it. They really cut back on the Jaha, it's great."

"Yeah. That's why we need to get back there now, before he can do any damage. Let's go, Murphy." 

* * *

 

"So, Clarke, you're going to be coming with me and we'll be approaching Arkadia from the East. And Murphy, you're with Indra, I need someone to watch out for you."

Indra fixed Murphy with a glare to which he replied "Lucky me."

Clarke finished hanging her belongings onto the back of her horse. She had acquired so many possessions and different clothing items since her arrival in Polis, that she felt sorry for the horse having to bear their weight as well as her own. She was just about to mount the horse when Indra called to her.

"Clarke, Lexa wishes to speak to you."

Clarke spun around. Walking up the path towards the group of horses and their riders was the brunette. She was still dressed in the disguise she had been wearing earlier, though the hood of her cloak was down and Clarke could see she had placed the disc she usually wore back on her forehead.

"Hurry up and talk to her," Octavia said bitterly. "And stop wasting our time already."

Clarke approached where the woman stood, noble and solemn, yet with no guards to protect her.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. It is the right thing to do, if the threat is as your friend says."

"Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You think I'm going to betray you?"

"It's a precaution, to make sure I'm not found. Only you, Titus, John and my guards will know I have left Polis. Titus will take over my affairs while I'm gone."

"So you didn't come to convince me to go with you?"

"No. I don't want to endanger you. Besides, your people need you, now, more than ever."

"Lexa." Clarke sighed and reached out a hand to stroke the other girl's soft hair that fell in waves down onto her shoulders. "You know I would like to have spent longer with you, as much as I want to see my people safe and I want to see my mom again."

"I know. But I actually came here to tell you something." She took a deep breath. "Titus always told me love is a weakness. I always thought that, but I know the truth. Life is about more than just surviving. Life is about freedom, about joy, about surrounding yourself with things you love, people you love. And I love you, Clarke kom skaikru."

"Lexa...Ai hod yu in." Clarke hoped she had the pronunciation correct. She met Lexa's eyes once more, green connected with blue. Making the first movement, Clarke reached out for Lexa's cheek and with the palm of her hand, drew it to her own. They kissed only briefly, their lips parting only slightly, but with this tender display of affection came a hope, a hope that they would meet again.

"May we meet again, heda," Clarke said, wondering how many times she would have to say these words.

"May we meet again."

So, the two young women parted and walked away from each other in opposite directions. In the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Lexa turn the corner so that she became hidden behind the trees. This really was it, the last she would see of her for a long time.

Clarke mounted her horse and as she lifted its reins, ready to ride, she caught Murphy smirking at her. "Something you want to tell us, Clarke?"

Octavia was looking at her too, though more with annoyance than amusement. Clarke noticed none of the grounders were staring; they were polite enough to have refrained from watching their commander's private conversation, thus they had not seen the exchange between Clarke and Lexa, nor the kiss. It really showed the ways of the sky people and how they could not mind their own business.

"I guess now I see why you were so fast to stick up for here," said Octavia. "Guess we all have a thing for grounders. If you must."

"What's the first thing you want to do when you get back to Camp?" Clarke asked her friends, trying to guide the subject away from her relationship status.

"Find my brother and beat the crap out of him." Octavia replied. "Rescue my boyfriend."

"Count me in for that. The first part, not the second," Murphy said.

"Clarke, you'd better have a bath as soon as you get back, your hair is filthy."

Clarke laughed. "Thanks for that, Octavia." The fresh forest air entered her lungs as they became surrounded by trees. "To Arkadia."

**Author's Note:**

> I have many other criticisms of season 3 than just the end of 307 though this is the issue with the show that affects me the most. If I had the power, I would have definitely have gotten rid of the end of 309 or at least given that character a somewhat honorable, non-racist death (though ideally I wish the lgbt and poc characters didn't have to die.) I would give Monty his own storyline because he needs to stop being in Jasper's storyline, maybe cut out some of the manpain, especially as the women deserve to mourn, too. STOP VILLAINIZING BELLAMY BLAKE. Maybe the character who represents racism shouldn't be black. STOP TORTURING RAVEN. And for God's sake, the unnecessary killing needs to stop. Jrat wants his show to be like some teenage game of thrones and is adding pointless violence that just adds for plotholes. There need to be more tough decisions that result in violence, i.e mount weather because seeing their favourite characters make those decisions is what people really like and sorry everyone for this rant.


End file.
